Distant Constellations
by sockfoot
Summary: These are the days of miracle and wonder. Gwen/Cameron.


A/N: I've been sitting on this one for a while. I don't own anything.

After three heartbreaking miscarraiges, Patricia Wilkins finally had a son. He was early, and much too small and delicate. He spent his first months of life in a tank with tubes and needles all over his tiny body. She would continue to call him her 'miracle baby' well into his adolescence.

When Patricia was finally able to take her son home, the doctors said he would probably have to live out his entire life in quararantine, and it would likely be short. His immune system was extremely weak, so much of his childhood was spent sitting in his sterile bubble while other children played outside.

However, the doctors were wrong. Miraculously, Cameron grew gradually healthier. Eventually, his condition did not require him to be entirely confined to the bubble, but the doctors recommended that he stay inside it as much as possible. That was fine with him for a while, because outside there were germs and diseases and awful things. With nothing to do but take in information, he learned everything he could about the world outside. As he grew older, and slowly became stronger, he began to yearn for the chance to experience real life, germs and all.

When Cameron beat all odds and his immune system was strong enough to truly face the outside world, he decided to sign up for a reality show. His mother was very against it, but he was adamant. Sure, it would be dangerous, but danger sounded enticing. The idea thrilled him. He'd watched every episode of Total Drama on television. Those competetions were real adventures. Out in the wilderness, in the fresh air and sunshine. The sort of adventures Cameron had always dreamed of. He never really expected to win, and he was more than happy to share the prize money with the other competitors, the first people he could really call friends. He still had enough saved away for college in a few years.

Having survived two seasons of Total Drama, Cameron felt empowered. He had proven himself to be stronger than anyone expected. He was no longer surviving day by day. Now he was really _living_.

And yet, Gwen made him feel fragile all over again.

Cameron sat on the Dock of Shame, his skinny legs dangling, eyes lost in the horizon. Before Total Drama, he never spent time with anyone besides doctors and family. He'd never met a girl like Gwen before. They'd been spending a lot of time together since Mike and Zoey often wanted their own space. Gwen was funny and intelligent. She knew great jokes, she was well-read, she listened, she understood.

He wasn't even sure what any sort of reciprocation could lead to, since it was post-season and they were all going home in just two weeks. The chances seemed slim that Gwen felt the same way, anyhow.

At the very least, he had to tell her. Cameron was a firm believer in honesty. Even if she didn't return his feelings, it would be good to get it off his chest. He'd never been good at hiding anything, and these feelings were becoming increasingly difficult to conceal. Sometimes when he was around Gwen, he felt like they would burst from him at any moment. Her smile filled him up to where he thought he might overflow. She left him tongue-tied and weak in the knees. Initially he was concerned about these symptoms, but Zoey, smiling knowingly, had assured him they were normal.

The sound of footsteps from behind jerked him out of his reverie, and he looked up to see Gwen herself, casually walking down the dock, sketchbook in hand. Neither said anything in way of greeting as she sat down beside him, but even being near her brought that strange warmth to his chest.

"What are you smiling about?"

Cameron jumped and tried very hard to look like he hadn't been thinking about her. "Oh! Um. It's nothing. Did you come here to draw?"

Gwen nodded. "Yeah, and to get away from everyone for a bit."

"I see. Would you like me to leave you alone?"

"Nah, you're okay." She grinned, and although the praise was unspoken, Cameron was flattered.

They sat for some time in companionable silence, save for the sound of Gwen's pencil scratching on her drawing pad. Cameron was curious about what she was drawing, but thought it might be rude to look, so he kept his gaze on the bright orange and pink clouds near the horizon, slowly fading into darker pinks and purples, occasionally glancing over at Gwen to admire how the setting sun cast a warm rimlight on her pale features.

Finally, Gwen spoke up. "I've really enjoyed getting to know you this season," she said conversationally, her eyes still on her sketchpad.

"I, um. Yeah. Me too."

"So, are you glad you left?" Her hand was moving quickly, shading in unseen shapes.

Cameron blinked. "Left?"

"Your bubble, I mean. You were telling me earlier about how your mom didn't want you to compete."

"Oh, I'm very glad I did! It's been quite an experience." He paused. "Well, it was scary at first. Actually, sometimes I'm still scared." He thought of Scott's angry glare, Izzy's wild eyes, Courtney's shrill rage. He thought of the distant coyote howls he heard at night, and all the other bizarre and dangerous creatures that lived in the woods. And then he turned his thoughts back to Gwen, who filled him with a completely different type of fear.

Gwen hummed pensively, as if she could relate. She couldn't, Cameron was certain, because Gwen was one of the bravest people he'd ever met.

"Well, it didn't come out quite like I imagined, but..." Gwen shrugged nonchalantly as she handed him her sketchbook.

The drawing was incredibly stylized, nearly dreamlike. It showed in sillouette, Cameron and Gwen sitting on the Dock of Shame, surrounded by swirling clouds and shimmering water. Surreal many-eyed ocean creatures watched them from below the docks. The sun was sinking behind the horizon, its fading rays spanning out and fusing into the organic shapes of the sky. It was only a graphite drawing, but Cameron was sure he could see the gorgeous sunset colors, though the real sky was quickly becoming dark.

"Gwen, this is incredible!" Cameron exclaimed. "It's so inspired! You have the drawing talent of uh, Ralph Steadman or- or Salvador Dali!"

Gwen flushed slightly at the praise and shrugged again. "I guess I was feeling in the moment, you know? I had an art teacher once who said the best thing to draw is the here and now."

"The here and now." Cameron echoed.

"And I kinda wanted to show you how I feel when I'm with you." Her right foot was gyrating restlessly off the side of the dock.

"You feel...like this?" He stared at the drawing. He's wasn't quite sure what to make of that, but it seemed like a positive thing. He tried to analyze it critically, calling on half-remembered knowledge of art psychology.

"Yeah. Like it's just us. Just you and me, and everything is...great."

Cameron smiled. "I feel like that, too. All the time. You're..." he paused. "You're different from anyone I've ever met."

She cocked her head and grinned. "Yeah? How so?"

"I can't quite explain." He adjusted his glasses. "Maybe it's my own perception altered by some kind of, uh, emotional anomaly."

"Ah, I see." she said. She leaned against him, and the warmth in his chest burned like a furnace.

They laid together like that for a while, feet dangling off the dock, their hands laced together, gazing at the stars.

"Gwen, you're a Sagittarius, right?"

She nudged him. "Nobody says 'what's your sign' as a pickup line anymore, doofus."

He chuckled and pointed up into the sky, connecting the stars with the tip of his finger. "That's Sagittarius, right there. You probably think this is silly, but it's often associated with good luck."

She leaned her forehead against his to look into his eyes, wide behind his fogged frames. "I don't know, I think I feel pretty lucky." She tilted her head and kissed him. When they seperated, his eyes were just as clouded as his glasses.

"I feel lucky, too." It was a breathless understatement. He squeezed her hand tighter, thrilled to have her as company on this next adventure.


End file.
